Watch Me Unravel
by But I'm No Mercury
Summary: Santana is Rachel's adoptive and very protective older sister, who has a very hard time watching her baby sister grow up. Faberry, Brittana, Pezberry sisters. The works.


**A/N: To whomever it may concern, this is a nice little story I wrote for my own amusement, and didn't take too seriously. I've read a few other sister!Pezberry stories before (I can't name any off the top of my head, but I do recall a few ****good ones) and fell a tensy bit in love with a momma bear Santana. In fact, I'd written—or started to write rather—a couple drafts of just some plain old Pezberry friendship fics, but in the end this ended up being one that got finished. **

**Title taken from the Weezer song 'Undone'**

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. I'm actually happy not to own Glee. **

* * *

It was the first day of Freshman year when Santana got to know Quinn Fabray. Well, really she had met the blonde girl during try outs for Cheerios, the summer before. Even then one look and she knew; Quinn meant business—she was a freshman that had the superioty of a senior. The girl carried a heap of confidence, yet she was prudish and stiff as a board. At the time, Santana couldn't tell if they'd become best friends, or if they'd strangle each other.

Or possibly some combination of both.

The point is, her and Quinn were very similar. They had amazing leadership skills, didn't do emotion, had glares that would put WWE Superstar to tears, and they both kept it real. Their friendship was a quiet, but strong one. Add Brittany to the mix and you get the Unholy Trinity. And no one fucked with the Unholy Trinity.

Santana was the brawn, Quinn was the brain, and Brittany was the neutralizer, the glue, the one that kept them out of trouble, etc.

Santana wasn't nessesarily proud of the person she was at school. She slushied her enemies and anyone who dared say her name in vain. She was a bully, she was a bitch, she was dangerous and she knew it. And it needed to stay that way, so she could protect Brittany and keep Fabray in check.

And to make sure her baby sister was safe.

Rachel would be entering her Freshman year as Santana began her time as a Junior. Rachel had a pretty good idea of what she did, and didn't approve it all. In fact, it seemed to make the brunette weary of setting foot into McKinley. Santana hadn't been worried, because the first person to even lay a hand on her baby sister will get a beat down. Lima Heights Adjacent laced.

Santana was born in the worst part of town, at the Lima Heights Adjacent Orphange. She was around three when the Berries adopted her and then Rachel a year later. Santana had taken an instant liking to the brunette the second the girl entered the house. Rachel was like a ray of sunshine that Santana wanted to protect with everything. The girl was bound to leave this town and make something of herself. And she loved her big sister, Santana.

Speaking of which, her sister was making her way down the steps, dressed in a black and white polka dotted dress, with a matching head band atop her head. Santana gave the girl a once over, giving her an approving smile as she walked into the living room.

"Looking good baby, sis." It was far from the usual Argyle sweaters that the older girl was sure Rachel would be wearing within the rest of the week. Santana herself, was dressed in her Cheerio uniform, leaning against the counter, chewing on a breakfeast bar as Rachel picked up an apple.

"Need I remind you, that I am only a few years younger than you?" Rachel corrected, taking a bite from her Granny Smith. Santana internally winced at that. She loathed the idea of her baby sister growing older.

"Can't you just take a compliment, Tiny?" Santana rolled her eyes, shaking off those thoughts. Rachel huffed indignantly at her.

"'_Tana._"

Santana snorted, nudging the younger girl, "Don't 'Tana me, get your ass in the car."

"Santana. Language." LeRoy Berry's voice sounded from the living room. Santana sighed; those men had ears like freaking Superman.

"Don't do drugs." Hiram added, just to be cheeky.

"Thanks dad, daddy." Santana deadpanned, grabbing her keys and pushing her baby sister through the room and towards the door.

/

"Just stay close to me, Rach." Santana had her arm looped with Rachel's as they walked through the halls. The tiny girl groaned at that.

"I can take care of myself just fine, Santana." Rachel tried to pull her arm away, but Santana wasn't having it. The second she let go, the Latina knew someone would do something stupid, and she'd have to kick some ass.

"San's just trying to protect you, Rach, you're really tiny." Brittany was on Santana's other side, holding her pinky. The blonde gave Rachel a comforting smile, teeth and all, remembering how Santana had done the same for her when they were freshman.

The girls made their way to the Santana's locker, where Quinn Fabray and a few other nameless Cheerios resided, waiting. Santana noticed the look that had shown up on Quinn's face as soon as she spotted Rachel. Quinn hadn't been properly introduced to the girl yet, because Santana didn't wanna deal with the judgmental HBIC—freaking Sylvester made pretty blonde barbie captain, when Santana was more than qualified. Whatever—grilling her baby sister.

"Santana, whose the newbie?" Quinn's eyes looked the girl up and down, eyes turning a dark shade of green that had Santana suspicious. Rachel was smiling, hand out to shake. Quinn raised a brow and Santana stepped infront of the little diva.

"That, is _my_ little sister. Now lets get a few things straight here," Santana got into Quinn's personal space. "One, I don't care what you do to the other freshman, but you touch her and you're done. Two, even after hell week, she's still now and forever off limits. Three, no name calling, or I will tell you _all_ about yourself. And that goes for everybody."

"San, I can take care of myself just fine." Rachel repeated, stomping her foot. Santana saw Quinn smile, but it wasn't very malicious.

"Yeah, San," Quinn teased, using the same voice you'd use when speaking to a child. Rachel pouted at being mocked and Quinn back tracked smoothely, "As long as she doesn't get in my way, I don't care what she does." She shrugged, giving Rachel another glance. Rachel looked shyly at her, and Santana was getting weary. This was all way to surreptitious for comfort.

"I got my eyes on you, Fabray." Santana glared at the girl, whose gaze was still locked onto Rachel.

/

Quinn and Rachel had always been a weird subject. The two girls were often civil towards eachother in a way Santana wasn't used to. Since the day she'd met Quinn, she's been a major bitch. The HBIC. Hell, she treats her boyfriend more like a slave than anything—but really, it was Finn Hudson, and lord knows he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed—yet when it came to Rachel she was...soft.

Their whole entire junior year, Quinn had been treating her baby sister with a silent sort of care. She did noticeable things, like glaring at Karofsky when he dared look her way, or giving her a change a clothes the one time Rachel had gotten slushied. Then there were little things, like the way Quinn actually listened when Rachel rambled on about whatever, or when she would listen to Rachel's solos whenever she wanted a second opinion.

Santana never truely knew what to make of their relationship.

Quinn never liked coming to her house, but as of this year, the blonde girl showed up quite a bit. Even when the latina wasn't there. She'd make excuses as to why she showed up, like 'I thought you'd be in', or 'I needed help with Spanish'. Santana could call bullshit a mile away.

The most recent, now that Senior year had come along, was usually something along the lines of 'I'm tutoring Rachel in Biology.' Rachel was a lot of things, but stupid was not one. In fact, if she remembers correctly, Rachel had helped her a few times when it came to her own Sophmore year.

Santana's eyes narrowed as she unlocked the door to her house.

"Its hard to hate Rach, because she's always happy. Plus Quinn's a huge softie, like you." Brittany spoke as they entered the Berry-Lopez home, after a lunch date. Santana had been stressing since the beginning of the year when Quinn showed up at their door Finn-less and ready to pick up Rachel.

"I'm just saying, B. I don't trust Fabray—especially not around my little sister. I've seen her make hard-ass Mr. Fisher cry. He was in the Navy, dammit, _the Navy._" Santana was way more worried than was probably physically healthy. It was giving her wrinkles, and she would hate herself by the time she was thirty for letting Quinn Fucking Fabray give her worry lines. But still—none of it added up.

Was it possible that Quinn simply liked Rachel, just because?

Que Mercedes Jones: "Oh, hell to the no!"

Santana started for the stairs, Brittany at her heel, "Look, I'm about to gets this solved right now. Rach is up in her room listening to her Striesand crap, so she should be in a good enough palce to answer my questions." Santana furrowed her brows at how loud her music was.

"I don't think it's very nice to barge into her room like this, San." Brittany whispered when Santana wrapped her hand around the door knob to her sister's room.

"Look, Britts, I gots it all—" Santana cracked the door, Brittany right behind her. Now, Santana was a very protective older sister and it took everything not to kick Quinn Fabray's ass. She was this close. She took a step forward, hand wrapped into a tight fist, "I am so gonna—"

"Shh, don't scare them!" Brittany put a hand over the girl's mouth. Not like they'd hear her, with the way Rachel (her _little sister_) was moaning like a pornstar. Not like they'd see them, considering they were all up on eachother. Fabray's hand was on her sister's ass. _Her baby sister's ass._

Brittany quickly, but quietly closed the door, dragging Santana away and down the steps. Santana wasn't breathing. Her face was bright red and she wanted so bad to go up there and kick Quinn's bitchy, white—

"Britt, that little blonde whore is raping my sister!" Santana squeaked. She needed air! She needed order!

Brittany pushed the girl outside, so they wouldn't disturb the couple upstairs. All the while she rubbed Santana's shoulders in comfort, whispering to her.

Brittany cooed at her, "S, you know Q is a virgin, and I'm pretty sure Rachel's hand was—"

"Don't talk about—dear god, I don't even want to think about it!" Santana cried. She would forever have the image of her sweet, little baby sister grabbing Quinn Fabray's boob, with her tongue down her throat. "She's only sixteen, B, she shouldn't even know what the word 'sex' means!"

"You have to accept the fact that Rach is growing up, Santana. She's not gonna be little Rae Rae forever." Brittany shrugged, a frown on her lips. She wasn't too happy that the brunette was growing up so fast either, but she knew it was inevitable. Santana on the other hand gasped and looked at her incredulously.

"How dare you say that to me, she will always be my _wittle_ _Wae Wae_ Berry..." She whispered pitifully through her tears.

Brittany frowned at her distraught girlfriend, "Why don't you try talking about it?"

"Talk to her? I can't even look at her!" Santana wiped her eyes, breaking down even further. No one she ever have to watch such a sweet innocent thing die. Santana openly sobbed, "I can't believe she would d-do this t-to me-e..."

/

Ok, she was not some pussy. Santana could go to school and look at Rachel without breaking out into Spanish cursing and/or tears. Just like she could make it through this practise without kicking Quinn's perverted, disgusting, innocence taking—Santana breathed in and out, remembering her anger management classes from elementary school. If only because Brittany would withhold her macking time if she did.

And she is not a hypocrite, because Santana is a—18 year old, I thank you—senior. Rachel was only a sophomore for god's sake.

"Hey, Santana, Brittany." Speak of the devil. Santana whipped around to face the glowing face of one Quinn Fabray. Brittany rubbed her arm soothingly as the Latina took in the smiling face of the blonde girl. Santana really wanted to whipe that smug look off her damn face.

Brittany immediately went into her overly bubbly, talkative mode she saved for when Jacob Ben Israel tried to interview them. She beamed at Quinn, "Hi, Q."

Quinn nodded at her, but let her eyes wander to a troubled looking Santana, who was having a hard time breathing. "You ok, S, your face is turning red?" She tilted her head in concern, wondering if the usually made of steel girl was sick.

"It's hot today." Santana gritted out, after a nudge from her girlfriend.

"Try telling Coach that," The blonde rolled her eyes. "So, how was that date last night? Rachel said you got home late." Brittany unconsciously squeezed Santana's arm tighter.

"And just what were you doing with my baby sister?" Santana spat, making the Cheerio captain's eyes go wide. It was quick, but Santana saw it. She caught the bitch red handed.

"Sanny, you're so silly, Q's not gonna slushie her or anything." Brittany laughed, trying to do some damage control. Quinn's tense body seemed to relax at that. She could feel Santana exhale as well.

"Exactly, but if you must know, I caught up with her on the way here. She was by her locker." Quinn explained, eyebrow raised. Although Santana could sense a bit of hesitation. Quinn Fabray was an open book when you've been plotting her death for most of the day.

Santana stared at her for a few moments, before narrowing her eyes, "Fine, but if you ever soil my baby sister in any way, god help me Fabray I'll kick your ass." Santana glared holes into the girl, whose eyebrow was now showing confusion. "My Mexican third eye is on you, like Coach Beiste on a cheesecake."

With that, Santana ran off towards the track to haze over a few Freshman Cheerios. Quinn gave Brittany a look, mouth slightly agape in bewilderment.

Brittany spoke quickly, "Mother nature brought her a gift this morning."

/

Rachel was an entirely different subject. Honestly everytime she looked at the girl, Santana pictured her scantily clad with Quinn Fabray on top of her. And that wasn't ok. Santana was alone this time, standing by her sisters locker and glaring at anyone who happened to walk by; it kept her mind off things. She had been so frazzled this morning that she'd forgotten lunch and Rachel was supposed to bring it.

Cause that cafeteria food was damn disgusting.

Santana then realized that Rachel should be getting out of her Spanish club meet to stop at her locker. Santana squeezed her fists together; She would not freak out on her. She would try and be patient and understanding. She will not curse. She will not yell. She will not cry—dammit, she will not cry.

"Santana, are you feeling alright?" The words made the already anxious Latina slam into the lockers. Santana looked down, chest hammering, to see a concerned Rachel looking right back. Rachel placed a tentative hand on her head, "I don't believe you're feverish, so why—

Santana swatted her sister's hand away, and spoke quickly, "O-Of course I'm ok—are you ok? Why wouldn't I be ok? Like seriously, I'm definately ok. Totes!" Santana internally face palmed.

Rachel simply stared at her, "Did you miss breakfeast this morning? Because you know that going to that woman's army-esque cheerleading practises on an empty stomach will ruin you. Quinn—"

"What were you doing with Quinn?" Santana inquried, leveling her sister with a stern look at the mention of the Cheerio captain.

"She came by a few weeks ago, with you and Britt, remember?" Rachel gave her look. "She was starving because of that pshycotic diet, so I made her something, while you and Brittany were christening the bathroom." She scrunched up her nose and Santana had the right to blush.

Santana cleared her throat, "Likely story."

Rachel hummed in response and opened her locker, pulling out a little paper bag. "Here is your lunch. Now I recommend you eat that, before you faint." She handed Santana the food, and began getting books for class that would be starting after lunch was over.

Better now than never.

"We need to talk." Santana blurted. Rachel looked up from her locker, closing it.

"About...?" Rachel tilted her head and if Santana knew a thing or two about Rachel Berry—which she did and then some—she knew the girl was a wonderful actress. Santana had also lived with the girl for awhile now, so she knew. That was her lying stance; from the furrowed brows to the way she coyly leaned against her locker.

Santana placed hands on her hips, with a no-bullshit glare, "Oh, you know what its about." She spoke in a foreshadowing way, that had her sister's eyes narrowing. Rachel was the only person who could actually give Santana a run for her money in the art of a stare down.

This time, Rachel lost, "I must be going. I have scales to practise and homework to work on." She sauntered off, passing Santana to make her way down the hall. Santana looked over to the other side of the hall where once again Quinn was there.

Not at all subtley checking out Rachel's ass.

/

This needed to be done. The only way she could truely be at peace with this was talking about it. God knows she hated talking about her feelings. Really, what does she look like? Last time she checked she wasn't Pillsbury dough bitch. Nor did she have a PhD in giving a shit.

Brittany's expression told just as much, with how she rocked back forth on the balls of her feet. She knew that this was not going to end well. The second that Rachel decided to enter the house and Santana sat her down on the couch, she knew things would go down hill.

"I hope you're comfortable, Rae, because its only right that atleast one of us are." Santana spoke as she stood in front of her sister, who had her arms crossed, legs crossed and huffing.

Rachel tried to protest, "Santana, I'm—"

"Rach, its best if you stay quiet." Brittany spoke from beside Santana, pinkies linked.

Rachel groaned, "I would apprecite it if I knew what this whole brouhaha was about."

Brittany frowned, looking at Santana, "Brouhaha?"

"Rachel, its come to my attention that you're," Santana exhaled, "Growing up." Rachel sat in confusion, watching as Brittany rubbed Santana's shoulders encouragingly.

"You're doing good, S."

"You're just—you're not a little girl anymore, and you're getting older. You're in highschool now, you're meeting new people, trying new t-things..." Santana took another breath. Seriously, the one pamphlet that Pillsbury didn't have...

"Santana, is there something—"

"Are you a virgin?"

Silence.

Nothing but extremely awkward silenece.

Really, not even Brittany could come up with something to break it.

Santana had a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She hadn't meant to say _that_—like **that**. Rachel sat with her eyes wide and mouth just as open. Brittany's own eyes were wide, as she looked straight ahead, trying desperately to ignore the thick tension in the room.

After opening and closing her mouth a few times, Rachel managed to speak, standing up to make her point. "I...I-I don't—That is none of your business, Santana!"

Santana got in her sisters face, "The hell it isn't, Rachel Barbra Berry you are only sixteen years old and I am your big sister! Que lo hace—" The rest turned into a mixture of Spanish laced with Rachel's own arguing, that Brittany didn't even want to try to unscramble.

Brittany rolled her eyes at the siblings.

"Ok, time out. Stop the violence." Brittany's voice boomed, making the two red faced girls stop. The blonde sighed, "Look, Rachel, we care about you. Honestly we're both concerned with some things that we we've seen."

"Yeah, what Britts said. We're very concerned."

Brittany waited for Rachel to slowly nod, before she spoke just as softly, "And I think we need to have the talk with you."

"Haven't I been embarresed enough to day? Look, if you must know, I am in fact still a virgin and if the situation arrived that would change that," Rachel rolled her eyes at Santana's wincing, "Then I would most definately be safe."

"Do you even own condoms?" Santana questioned.

"Daddy placed us both on birth control, remember?"

"You can never be too safe."

Rachel fought the urge to storm from the room. "I'm not a naive little girl anymore Santana, as you earlier stated."

"B-But your just a freshman!"

"Santana, you know good and well that I'm a sophomore."

"You're not even in a relationship," Santana watched the girl tense up. God, she was so (not) ready to call her out. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"Please don't freak out." Rachel pleaded, knowing how easily this could turn back into and argument.

Brittany wrapped her arm around Santana's, placating her silently fuming girlfriend, "Don't worry, Rach, I got her."

"I don't need to be held, I'm a big girl!" Santana tried—albeit weakly—to shrug her girlfriend off, but Brittany was too strong.

After a long moment of silence, Rachel took a deep breath, before quickly saying a sentence that Santana didn't have to strain her ears too much to hear.

"I'm dating Quinn."

"She admits it! Now I'm gonna go kick that bitch's ass for even thinking about you that way!"

"Santana, I love her!"

"Deep breaths Sanny, calm down, please!"

/

Santana wasn't nessesarilly prepared for this talk either. Really, it took a few weeks and a lot of thinking (drinking) and moral support (sex) from Brittany to work her up to this. Although it was worth it to see the new (sickeningly cute) couple sitting on the couch and Santana paced around. Brittany stood as well, watching Santana with worry.

None of these talks ever went well.

"So, tell me why I had to find out about this by walking in on you two humping on eachother. Again."

"You weren't supposed to be home..." Rachel muttered under her breath, pouting.

Quinn scoffed, "I told you we should've been careful!"

"Don't snap at my sister, Fabray, you're the one who turned her into some sex fiend!" Santana glared Quinn down with the most menacing stare she could muster. It was all she could do, considering Brittany wouldn't let her touch anyone.

"San, you said that you'd listen." Brittany warned, letting her hand rub Santana's back.

"Fine, explain yourselves. Or whatever."

"Thank you, 'Tana." Rachel beamed, "So, Quinn was actually more keen on my arrival last year than she let on. She would smile at me, and when you weren't there she made sure to keep the jocks away." Rachel smiled at her girlfriend, kissing her cheek. Santana simply gave a short nod, still eyeing the HBIC with a hawk like gaze.

"Then," Quinn continued from where Rachel had started, albeit reluctantly. "As time went on, I realized how attracted I was to her. One day you guys were on a date, without telling me might I add and one thing led to another—"

"We kissed, simply kissed and Quinn was the perfect gentlewoman at all times. Nope, not a single thing occured below the neck." Rachel quickly finished with a smile that Quinn had returned awkwardly.

Brittany nudged her, "That's so romantic, S."

Quinn cleared her throat, "Anyway, as I'm sure you know, I'm not very good with feelings, either. But I really like your sister, Santana—I love your sister. I've never and will never pressure her, and when the time comes that anything intimate would occur, I swear we'll be safe."

"And that time better be years—very very long years from now," Santana warned the blonde who held onto her sister's hand like a vice. Santana quickly added, "Decades, even."

Rachel dismissed it with a wave of her hand, "You know I'm waiting until I'm atleast twenty five."

"You are?" Quinn looked confused, and Rachel elbowed her hard, "Ah, of course, twenty five..." Quinn strained out, holding her ribs.

Santana surpressed her rage and eventually softened. She rubbed at her temples, "I still don't know how I feel about this age thing."

"Sanny, its only one year." Brittany reminded her.

"I guess I can deal with this," Santana sighed, and even Brittany had her eyes open wide to stare at her. "As long as my little Rae Rae is happy, then I er—approve or whatever."

"Aw, 'Tana Banana!" Rachel engulfed her into a hug and Santana smiled. She missed the days when they were still playing princesses and making Oscar awards out of playdoh. Then she didn't have to worry about this. Rachel squeezed her tight, "I love you."

"Love you too sis."

Brittany watched the two and placed a hand on Quinn's tense shoulder. "Aw, aren't they cute, Q?" Quinn bobbed her head, happy that her girl was at peace with her sister.

"Come here, Fabray. Give Auntie 'Tana a hug." Santana stood, arms out. The blonde girl looked at her anxiously, glancing at Rachel who nodded encouragingly. Quinn stood up, standing infront of the latina. "That's it, come here." Santana wrapped arms around Quinn, who did the same, albeit weakly.

"You know I really appreciate you trusting me with this, Santana."

"Mm, it's fine, really," The Latina smiled, sweetly, "You hurt her, I'll rip off your left boob and feed it to Lord Tubbington." She whispered softly, with no malice in her words, but Quinn still visibly shuddered.

"I'll keep that in mind."

/

Santana didn't think she'd ever get used to this. Why did she have to graduate? Why couldn't she be younger? If she was in college then who would keep an eye on her baby sister? Who would make sure that that little sex demon Fabray wouldn't deflower her the second she left?

"Just look at 'em Britts." Santana whined, as Quinn kissed her innocent, little sister in in the middle of the hall, giving everyone a free show.

"San, they're just being a couple," Brittany reassured. Ok, so maybe it was just a tiny peck and the two girls were by Quinn's locker. Santana huffed, excuse her for the misunderstanding, but she knew that in the back of her mind Fabray was undressing her sister.

Everyone in Santana's family was a catch.

"I know, but look at them Britt, they're so close to eachother!" Santana complained, "They're breaking like five PDA rules."

Brittany smiled at the adorable pout Santana was sporting—must be a family thing—kissing it away, "Please try to enjoy graduation, 'Tana. It's the last day of school, and I'd rather be kissing you, than worrying about Faberry."

"I still say it should be Ruinn. Why should Fabray's name be first?"

"Whatever you want, San." Brittany kissed the tense hands that she held with her own.

Santana had been weary since she got her acceptance letter to go to college all the way in Boston, along with Brittany. She didn't like the feeling of being away from the Berry's—from her home. She almost convulsed when she realized Quinn would be not only going to her sister's dream city to study, but had given her train tickets to come visit her—whenever. The thought of the two being so easily in touch made her blood boil.

Santana verbally growled, "I swear if she hurts her while I'm gone..."

"S." Brittany stressed, cupping her girlfriend's cheek.

Santana huffed, not at all placated, but happy Brittany was trying. "Ok, I'm sorry, Britt Britt, c'mere."

* * *

** A/N2: That wasn't too bad, was it? Nice fluffy little ending, with just enough left open to let you dream. **


End file.
